


A Little Bit of Sugar

by bestintheparsec



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestintheparsec/pseuds/bestintheparsec
Summary: You and Frankie both frequent the same coffee shop
Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales & Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	A Little Bit of Sugar

The cool air-conditioned breeze that meets your skin when you step inside is a stark contrast from the warmth and humidity outside. The coffee shop is smaller than you expected, but still has the same cozy vibes and familiar sounds that makes the place feel welcoming. You glance around the shop—it’s a hole-in-the-wall place for sure, but it’s the only one you could find in town. And besides, you don’t mind the calming air—it’s a nice change from the more chaotic scene of a cafe in the city. You’re new to this town—it’s a small one, and you’re already enjoying how everything is less hustle-and-bustle. There’s a few quaint little tables decorated with subtle accents that give the place more charm, although the shop is just a typical one. There’s a decent amount of people here, mostly standing in line, and they’re all probably just like you—on their way to work or wherever they need to be.

You step past someone with a curt “excuse me” to get a better look at the menu, but you already know you’ll order the same thing as always and it’s not like your preferences are anything unique. Stepping back in line, you wait to make your order. While waiting for your drink, you look curiously at the people around you again, wondering where they’re off to. Are they in a hurry like you? Maybe being in school and then working for so long has made you this way, but you’re always in some sort of rush, whether you want to be or not. 

Taking a sip from the drink, you find that it somehow tastes even better than your old favorite shop’s. The door jingles as you leave and you take another sip, deciding that you like this tiny shop in this small town.

~

An iced latte with almond milk. That’s what Frankie heard you order. You’re long gone now, but a tiny smile plays on his lips when he thinks of the pretty girl that brushed past him to look at the menu earlier. You didn’t look for very long—probably just a curious peek before ordering your usual. That’s one reason Frankie could tell you’d never been here before. But he’s also used to seeing the same people here every morning, and he’s definitely never seen you around before. You hadn’t noticed him when you moved past—most people usually don’t. But when he’d stepped out of your way with a quiet “sorry,” he’d done a double take. He’s been coming to this shop long enough to know all the regulars. This place is a constant for him, one that keeps him grounded—no pun intended. He knows it’s not much, just another rinky dink coffee shop that could use a few renovations, but it’s more than enough for him. He usually doesn’t pay much attention to the people around him, but there was something about you that made him wish he knew you—though he would’ve never said a word to you right then. You had this inquisitive but soft look in your eyes, one that contrasted the polite but disinterested expressions he’s grown used to. 

The barista had called your name, looking embarrassed to tell you she’d made your order slightly wrong. _I added a little bit of sugar by accident_ , she’d apologized, offering to remake it. You’d smiled—you had a lovely, kind smile—and insisted it would be just fine, that it doesn’t hurt for most things to be sweeter.

Frankie sits at his usual seat, nursing his usual plain, black coffee. He knows well that this warm feeling after seeing you is fleeting, something light in his world of heavy thoughts and memories. He’ll probably never even see you again—you likely just made a stop here on your way to the city. But there’s a small part of him that hopes he might.

~

There’s a man that catches your eye when you step into the coffee shop this morning. The first thing that hits you isn’t the comforting aroma of what’s being brewed, but a man who somehow stands out by being the most unassuming person in the room. You can’t remember if you’ve seen him before—you’ve only been here twice now, and it’s been a week since the first. He’s seated at one of the tables in the corner, alone, sipping his drink before continuing to mull over a book in his hand. He’s handsome, that’s for sure. But his demeanor—the way he’s slouching over to read, holding his arms close to himself—gives you the feeling that he’s not the arrogant-peacock type. His brown, mussed curls poke out from under a baseball cap, and he’s got a bit of shaggy facial hair that adds to a look of warmth and coziness—you don’t know why, but it does. His eyes only leave the book once to check his phone. He doesn’t have anything else with him, so he must not be staying long—just a quick morning caffeine run before heading off to wherever. 

You realize you’re staring and avert your eyes, stepping forward as the line moves up. You make your order—exactly the same as before, and quietly take it and go on your way. But on your way out today, you can’t help but wonder who that man in the baseball cap is, what he’s like. And despite yourself, you wonder if he’ll be there again next time.

~

Frankie doesn’t know why, but he’s happy to see you when you come in for your coffee today. It’s nothing dramatic, just a light feeling that’s enough for the smallest of smiles to form on his lips, his shoulders relaxing even though his heart possibly skips a beat as the door swings shut behind you. He’s surprised to see you again—but it’s a good surprise. He immediately looks back down at his book when you walk past his table to order—he swears it’s almost like you’d glanced at him for a moment, though that’s probably just his own head telling him that. Either way, he feels his face getting warm, hoping you hadn’t caught him staring.

The barista recognizes you, greeting you with an _it’s nice to see you again_ , at which you laugh quietly—it’s a cute laugh, Frankie notes, one he hopes to hear again.

When you pick up your drink this time and turn to leave, he notices you stopping in your tracks near his table, as though you’re contemplating something you might’ve forgotten. Whatever it is, it seems to be a split-second thought—you pull out your keys from your bag and continue on your way. Frankie doesn’t dare to look up again until the door shuts behind you. The warmth in his face goes away when he decides there’s no chance you’d noticed him. Why would you?

~

It’s the little things that make a day easier. Maybe it’s the routine of knowing where you’re headed each morning, of having a constant in your life no matter how small. Or maybe you just really need that caffeine to get you through those longer days. 

The coffee shop may be the only one in town, but it would be your go-to even if there were a multitude of fancier ones anywhere near you. You like its homey feel, the way its subtle appeal could go overlooked by many people, but makes it all the better to you. You’re officially a regular now, the very short conversations with the baristas becoming a welcome part of your day.

Of course, the attractive man in a baseball cap—you now know he’s a regular, just like you—certainly helps. You always find him at the same table, scrolling through his phone or peering over a book. Sometimes he’s not reading anything at all, simply finishing his drink before heading out. You wonder what he does, since he’s always here so early. You never get more than a glimpse at him when you come in, not wanting to be caught, or worse—a creep. You don’t know anything about him, after all, and you’ve never even so much as made eye contact with him. But somehow, he and his table in the corner have become just as much a constant in your day as the smell of fresh coffee in the morning.

~

The cool weather that signifies the beginning of autumn means the coffee shop is busier than usual, bringing in people in search of warm, freshly-baked pastries and pumpkin spice lattes. Frankie sees you come in, rubbing your arms from the slight chill outside. Seasons have shifted, you come here as often as he does, but he’s still yet to utter a single word to you. Some things never change, but he wouldn’t mind if they did. 

Frankie wishes he could talk to you. You greet the baristas with the same _good morning_ every time, and he can’t help but think of how much he’d like to be on the receiving end of that gentle smile someday. It’s not as though there’s any opportunity for him to speak up, not that he’d be able to convince himself to do so even if there was. You pass by him as you leave each time, often keeping your eyes on the ground without meeting eyes with anyone else.

One day on your way out, another customer inadvertently steps into your path, making you bump into Frankie’s table. He catches your gaze for a brief second as you whisper an embarrassed _sorry_ and give him an apologetic smile before quickly turning away and heading back towards the door. Frankie doesn’t even have time to reply but it’s in the moments after this that he decides, if given the chance, he’ll finally say something to you. Or at least, he’ll try.

~

It’s a particularly windy, chilly day when you decide to stray away from your usual routine, opting to get a seasonal drink instead. It’s a decision you’re glad you made—the hint of sweetness from the drink warms your throat and brings a welcome feeling of comfort you can always use more of. 

You’re a bit early today. It’s not quite time for you to head out, so you linger against the wall, quietly sipping your drink. You’re mindlessly tracing your fingers over the patterns on the cup before turning to look out the shop’s windows, wondering if the weather might calm down later. When you turn back, you curiously peek towards the familiar table in the corner across the room. Much to your surprise, you lock eyes with the man in the baseball cap. 

Your heart jumps and you can feel the warmth in your face, but give him a tiny smile in an attempt to play off your awkwardness. He looks as though he’s caught off guard as well—his eyes widen just slightly. But he responds with a shy smile before immediately glancing back down at the table, nervously pushing his hands further into his jacket’s pockets.

You look away too, but your face stays warm. _He noticed you?_ You’re sure this has to have been the first time, and maybe it might not happen again—you can’t help but feel a bit saddened by this. Either way, you realize it’s time to head out and spare a short glance in his direction as you go. His head’s back in his book now, and he’s likely far away from this coffee shop and any thoughts of you.

~

Frankie’s aimlessly scrolling through his phone one weekend afternoon, lost in thought, when he hears someone quietly clear their throat. He looks up and is surprised to see you, wearing a gentle smile and an oversized sweater, a sight that makes him momentarily unaware that his heart is pounding just a little bit faster. Flustered, he timidly smiles back before averting his gaze, looking back down at his phone. It takes him a second to realize you’re trying to squeeze into the seat next to his, after which he quickly and wordlessly scoots aside for you. Each table in the shop is made for one or two, but there’s a long bench that runs along the length of the wall, so people can sit as close or far from each other as they’d like. The shop is pretty full today, so you seat yourself fairly close to him.

You set your drink down and pull a notebook out of your bag, flipping it open. Frankie takes a drink of his own coffee as he tries not to think about how you’d caught him staring the other day. _Do you even remember that?_ He wonders. He’s just another person here, what are the chances you’d pay him any mind? 

He tries to keep his eyes glued to his phone as you silently read through your notes. He knows he told himself he would say something, anything, to you if given the chance—this is it. But he finds himself unable to come up with the words, fidgeting with the hat on his head as he tries to quell the warmth in his chest. 

Frankie removes the hat for a second to smooth out his hair under it, which draws your attention. You look up and meet his eyes, softly smiling at him again as he adjusts the cap back on his head. He feels his mind go blank but quickly returns the smile, hoping this is a good sign. It only lasts a second before the two of you break eye contact and go back to what you were doing. It’s ironic—Frankie can feel his pulse racing, but somehow in a stranger’s presence his mind is calmer than it’s been in a long while.

~

The air outside is cooler than usual and your cheeks are slightly numb when you enter the warm shop today. You’re in the mood to try yet another seasonal drink, choosing a sweeter-than-usual option this time. You start to take out your wallet but the barista hands you the drink and informs you it’s already been paid for, anonymously. 

You tilt your head and chuckle with confusion, thinking she’s just joking with you. But she simply smiles and winks, discreetly shifting her eyes in the direction of a certain table in the corner. Your face suddenly grows warmer than the drink in your hand and you thank her, turning to walk over to the man in the baseball cap with all the courage you can muster.

He meets your gaze for a fleeting moment as you take the same empty seat next to him. He shifts in his own seat, adjusting the collar of his corduroy jacket as his eyes dart from you back to his table.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, meeting his eyes again. He seems anxious at the fact that you knew it was him.

“I hope that’s okay—sorry, I—I didn’t know how—” he stammers, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. It’s the first time you’ve heard him speak, and you soften at his gentle yet husky voice.

You kindly interrupt by offering your name.

He looks relieved as he lets out a soft chuckle. “I’m Frankie. Francisco. Morales,” he rambles, giving you a familiar little smile that makes your stomach flutter even more than the first time you saw it.

You grin at him. “And what’s your usual coffee order, Frankie Francisco Morales?”

~

Frankie’s been talking to you for exactly two minutes and he’s already feeling a tickling sensation in his stomach at the way his name sounds in your voice. He doesn’t know how he worked up the nerve to get you that drink, but he couldn’t be happier that he did. 

The time doesn’t seem to pass as the two of you fall into easy conversation. You tell him about what you do, what you hope to be someday, and he mentions that it suits you well. Your eyes drop when you smile at that, and you make a comment about how you can tell he’s ex-military—not that there’s anything about his appearance that indicates this, you clarify when he seems surprised. You mention that there’s just something about the way he carries himself, and Frankie feels his heart skip at the fact that you’ve ever thought of him beyond a simple glance. He seems to carry more than just himself a lot of the time, but in this moment things weigh a little bit less.

~

You get your coffee just as often as you always have, but you start going a little earlier so that you can sit with Frankie at what’s now your usual table in the corner. Your daily conversations with him have become a brighter start to your day than your favorite drink could ever be. You always have the whole day ahead of you once you leave, but when you’re here with him, your world seems to exist only in this small space. Both of you have places to go and jobs to do, of course, but somehow none of that matters when you’re just two regular people having a warm, caffeinated drink together. 

Frankie gives off a certain warmth when you’re in his presence, as though just being in his company makes you feel comforted and safe. It’s not until you’ve spent many mornings with him that you realize the flutters in your stomach have never really gone away since the first few times you saw him. You thought this coffee shop would be your only constant in this town, not knowing that this man in a flannel shirt and baseball cap would be another.

~

You unwrap your scarf and set down your drink, rubbing your hands together to warm them up. Frankie moves aside for you to take your usual seat on this much colder morning. You don’t catch him smiling at the way you’ve come to have a spot in his heart, too. Not that you would know—he’s never said as much. He’s happy enough that of all the people around, you continue to choose to be with him every morning. Truthfully, he’s wanted to ask you on a date for a long time, now. But more than anything, he’s afraid—worried that you have no interest in such a thing, that it’d result in the end of whatever he has with you right now, which is the last thing he wants. As far as he’s concerned, you think of him merely as someone to talk to on the way to work each day. You haven’t even exchanged numbers—meeting here everyday is just something that happens on its own, and neither of you have ever questioned it. 

He holds your gaze and listens to you tell him about your plans for the day, but you don’t know that he’s thinking of how glad he was to see that lovely girl step into this place all those months ago. This shop has always been his place to escape, but he’s grateful that it’s become more than that.

It’s not until you get up to leave that Frankie suddenly feels bold enough to stop you for a minute. He wants to reach for your hand, but only manages to say your name. You turn to face him again with curious eyes.

“I’d—um—I’d like to take you out for dinner, sometime,” he starts. “It doesn’t have to be dinner. I mean—only if you want, of course. If you don’t that’s okay, too—don’t worry,” he sputters nervously, clasping his hands together on the table. 

You glance at the floor then back at him before smiling softly—that smile that makes him forget how to be anything except wholly complete. When you place a hand over his and tell him yes, his heart races a bit faster and he beams at the idea of getting to know you outside of this rinky dink little coffee shop.

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from my tumblr, @bestintheparsec


End file.
